Mayhaps
by Rashelleah95
Summary: Melinda May was silent, but deadly. She was lethal. A perfect agent, a powerful ally, and a truly terrifying enemy. She was not a mother. She couldn't be. Staring down at the paper in her hand, at the test results that told her exactly what she had expected them to, she felt nauseous for the first time. Thanks to everyone for all the love, guys.
1. Prologue

Melinda May was silent, but deadly. She was lethal. A perfect agent, a powerful ally, and a truly terrifying enemy.

She was not a mother. She couldn't be. Staring down at the paper in her hand, at the test results that told her exactly what she had expected them to, she felt nauseous for the first time. The blood test told her all she needed to know. Se slipped out of the sterile, silent facility and made herself scarce. Being alone was all she knew sometimes. Suddenly, she was afraid she would never be alone again.

It had been roughly two months, on an op in Moscow. It was snowing, and beautiful, and she was lonely. She almost never let herself be lonely, only alone. She told herself that there was a difference. Agent Paul Garrison wasn't the standard office-issue paper cut-out. While May was cold and detached, he threw himself into everything, head over heart over heels. He wore colorful ties and told jokes, he stayed up late but rose early. He loved good wine and beautiful women, and he was good-looking in a funny kind of way, he even made her smile. No one could ever make her laugh, though he often tried.

Melinda fancied that he loved her, though the words never crossed his lips. He said he loved her taste in wine, her hair, her right hook. Never just "I love you." She wouldn't have known what to say even if he had. She told herself it was better that way. She told herself a lot of things.

But Paul was long gone, he had been buried and his grave had sprouted grass before Melinda had missed a period. Like most, he had no family. His funeral was poorly attended, just a few ex-girlfriends from SHIELD Human Resources and some friends from West Point. Melinda hadn't known what to say to any of them, so she just stood there, resisting the urge to vomit, which she attributed to the loss of a good partner and a questionable hot dog earlier in the day.

That loss seemed minimal compared to the choice before her. She didn't know what she would do, so she did what she did best. She turned away from others, to spend time alone, and think.


	2. Chapter 1

Melinda's apartment didn't really feel like hers. It was one of the randomly assigned SHIELD apartments, located in strategic points in the city, designed especially for agents who were mostly in the field. The primary colors were grey and white, the main design scheme, minimalist. The apartment was small, but not cramped. It lacked the qualities of a home that is totally inhabited, there were no framed photographs, the bookshelves were mostly bare, the counters were spotless. The entryway of the apartment led into a small living room, with a grey couch, wooden coffee table, and outdated television set. The kitchen was small, almost miniscule, the right size for a single business woman who didn't date, never cooked and rarely ate in. The bathroom was about the same size, and just about as empty, and the bedroom contained a bed, a closet, and not much more. The only indication that anyone lived in the barren apartment was the suitcase next to the door, and the huge pile of mail next to it.

"Hello?" A woman knocked on the door of the almost empty apartment, and the sound reverberated off of the bare walls, causing the sleeping Melinda to wake with a snort. Shaking herself awake, Melinda stretched. It wasn't like her to fall asleep on the couch. Her stomach growled noisily, drawing her attention to the noise that woke her. Melinda's long, dark hair was escaping the tight braid she had plaited the night before as she read covert operations files. She was wearing pajama pants and a grey t-shirt without a bra.

"Great," She muttered to herself. "I look like a sorority girl during finals week." Shrugging, she walked to the door, quickly grabbing a bra from her suitcase and pulling it on under her shirt.

"Hello?" The knocking on her door continued, intensifying to a rapid, insistent tapping.

Melinda looked through the underused peep-hole and saw a small blonde woman on the other side, holding a large purse and the contents of a small filing cabinet.

Melinda sighed, her forehead against the cool wood of the door. She had no choice. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, instantly assuming a calm facial expression. It was her interrogation face.

"You're Marsha Alcott?" She asked, standing in the doorway.

The woman was short, and blonde. She was barely five feet tall, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. She looked haphazardly put together, she was wearing two different earrings, and her hair was unevenly brushed. The short blonde woman raised her eyebrows at Melinda and handed her a driver's license from the pocket of her coat. She somehow managed to juggle the half a dozen, thick files she was carrying in addition to the bag she had slung over her shoulder.

"Good enough, Agent May?" She asked, her tone unimpressed by the reception she was receiving.

"It will suffice. Come in." Melinda stood aside and let the woman into her apartment.

A moment later, the two women sat in silence on opposite ends of the small couch on which Melinda had spent the night, in awkward silence.

"So," Marsha began, wiping her palms on her jeans. "Why am I here, exactly?"

"I got your name from Agent Coulson." Melinda said. "I needed someone discreet."

"What for?" Marsha asked, directly.

"I'm pregnant." Melinda said, in a voice with no inflection.

Marsha was speechless. "Oh. That's not deeply personal from an almost complete stranger. So," She cleared her throat self-consciously. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm not sure. What would you normally recommend?" Melinda asked. She was uncomfortably out of her depth when it came to the whole reproductive process. Sex she could handle. Sex she understood, she was good at. But she had never intended to have children.

"Honestly, Agent May, I'm not sure what to tell you. I'm not an OBG-YN, I'm a cardiologist." Marsha replied, slightly confused.

"I just need to know how to proceed from here." Melinda said, calmly, not allowing her voice to betray her inner frustration. How could this woman not understand? She didn't get it, there was literally no way forward that she could understand. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Well . . ." Marsha trailed off awkwardly. "I assume you've decided to carry the pregnancy to term?"

"I guess." Melinda said, slowly. there were choices to be made, and she had no idea how any of them should be tackled. She hardly even knew what they were.

"Is there a . . . father in the picture?" Marsha asked, hesitantly.

"Mine is dead, so is the baby's." Melinda said, her voice toneless.

"Well, are you experiencing morning sickness?" Marsha asked, grasping at straws.

"Frequently." Melinda said, her voice still without inflexion.

"Are you taking any prenatal vitamins?"

"No."

"Well, that's a place to start." Marsha said, hopefully. Her anxiety was mounting. Agent May seemed a bit eerily calm, and it made her feel nervous. "I'll have that taken care of, you should start on those as soon as possible."

"Okay."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do about work? You won't be cleared physically for field work in your condition." Marsha told her.

"I haven't taken a vacation since I started at SHIELD. I've saved up enough vacation time." Melinda calculated.

"How far along are you?" Marsha asked, carefully.

"Two months."

"Alright, I'd suggest you go on leave at once, and I'll arrange an appointment for you-"

"No." Melinda May's face was stony as she turned to face Marsha, looking her straight in the face for the first time since her arrival. "No one can know."

"Why not?" Asked Marsha, nonplussed.

"Because I'm a SHIELD agent." Melinda said simply. "It's my life."

"That's not necessary-" Marsha began.

"It is. That's the way I am, Doctor Alcott." Melinda cut her off, her gaze flinty. "I cannot be a mother."

"Alright," Marsha said, attempting a calm tone. "So, you can give the child up for adoption. But someone's going to have to know about it. You have to see doctors-"

"You'll treat me here." Melinda said, seeing another choice ahead of her. "SHIELD has eyes everywhere but inside this apartment. I have no family, no close friends, only coworkers. No one will think anything of my disappearance, I'll be on vacation. I'll cover my tracks, call in favors with the IT department, who can make me appear to be in Tibet or Mongolia. I'll disappear for a few months, and come back as if it never happened."

"If that's what you want, Agent May." Marsha said, bemused. "I'll help you."

"It is what I want." Melinda confirmed. "And thank you."


	3. Chapter 2

"Agent May, are you certain of this course of action?" Doctor Marsha asked Melinda, looking at her seriously over the table. Her coffee steamed before her on the table, making her eyes water. It was truly terrible stuff. She only drank it to be polite.

"I'm positive." Melinda said. "F6."

"Ugh, you sunk me!" Marsha said, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat.

"Next time, take my word for it." Agent May replied, her tone even, but subtly pleased. "I'm undefeated in Battleship."

"Well, I'm more of a puzzle person myself." Marsha shrugged. She helped Melinda pack up the game, putting the box aside, and the two women sat in silence. They had grown more comfortable that way over the last six weeks. As May's pregnancy progressed, she and Marsha had planned out a few house calls. Marsha came over and drank the horrible coffee that Agent May prepared for her, asked her about her symptoms, and did what she could to help. The two women sat on either side of the tiny, square table, in uncomfortable chairs, and drank their hot beverages, lousy coffee for Marsha, Tea for May.

"So, how are you feeling?" Marsha asked May, taking another hesitant, cringing sip.

"Well, I've been sleeping ten hours out of the day." Agent May said, dryly, blowing on her tea just slightly. "I'm ordering food four times or more a day, and my feet are enormous."

"Yeah, there's not much I can do about that." Doctor Marsha said, looking over May's medical file. SHIELD stationary stared back at her, page after page of identical forms filled out in a cramped handwriting she recognized.

"I haven't been able to wake up at the normal time for weeks. It's throwing off my exercise routines." May reported.

"Sleep is good." Marsha commented.

"Thank you, that's terribly scientific." Agent May said, raising her eyebrows. She crossed her arms over her expanding bust line and sat back in the uncomfortable, high-backed chair.

"Agent May, ever since you called me in to help you through this difficult time in your life, I can't help but notice that you are resistant to the changes your body is going through." Marsha said, doing her best to be tactful, but feeling uncomfortably confrontational. She was very aware of the half a foot in height and intense training that Melinda had on her in that moment. She felt Melinda's eyes on her, and continued. "I understand that you were unprepared for this pregnancy, but you're going to have to accept it. You have made a choice, and you've chosen to have this child. This is not going to be easy, and your resistance to it is going to make it harder. I'm here to help you have this kid, and you need to work with me."

"I understand, Doctor Alcott." Agent May replied, her voice about as warm as the Arctic.

After a few more moments of counsel and deliberation, Marsha took her leave and May sat, staring at the steaming mug across from her, alone.

May planned for her absence from the country over the next few weeks. She knew that she would start showing soon, and she made arrangements for a flight to New Delhi. She had the IT guys who owed her a favor loop the footage in her building, and had her mail redirected.

Over the last few weeks she had nested in the mostly empty apartment, while the kitchen was still mostly empty, she had some snacks for her weird cravings. The couch was softened by the addition of a few blankets, and May had spread out a few case files for review on the coffee table. Next to the case files, a few red pens for editing, and a copy of The Art of War, for when she grew bored.

Everything was going according to plan so far, with only one exception. Coulson had called at one point, to see how she had liked Marsha. They had a brief conversation, which suited May just fine. She bid him goodbye, and told him she would see him after her vacation, and ended the call.

May was lucky she had so few close friends. Only the girl who arranged her flights and bought her gear wondered what had become of her, anyone higher had knowledge of her vacation plans. In fact, there was an entire division devoted to the study and tracking of off-duty SHIELD agents. It was called the Strategic Tracking Of Non-Essential Resources Safety, or STONERS. Non-essential resources referred to agents or assets whose efforts were not necessary at all times, who could afford to take a vacation. Agent May had accumulated two hundred and forty-five days of leave in all of her years working at SHIELD, just over eight months. For an agent in her late twenties, Melinda's eight years of service to SHIELD was impressive. Melinda was one of top fifty in her field, and SHIELD kept an eye on her. They had to, she was very valuable. As a top asset for the organization, she was required to go under psychiatric evaluation every six months, medical examination before and after every mission, and polygraph testing every three months. There were whole filing cabinets on her. She knew all of this, so she knew her disappearance would have to be thorough and clean. She knew it would have to be a masterpiece, her best work. She knew that she couldn't do it alone, and that frightened her more than any other part of the situation.

**AN: I just wanted to thank all of you amazing readers for reviewing, and for all of the positive feedback! I really appreciate it. I love you guys. **


	4. Chapter 3

Agent May was playing cards with her doctor in her living room, her rounded stomach cushioned by a soft black sweater, when Marsha brought up one subject that she hadn't expected.

"What are your Christmas plans?" Marsha asked her, eating a spoonful of one of the nutritious yogurts she recommended for May to keep in her apartment.

"Nonexistent." Melinda responded, putting down a winning card. "I don't really like holidays."

"Are you kidding? I love them." Marsha smiled, shaking her head. She put down a card that trumped May's, giving her patient a sly smile.

"You have small children, you have to love the holidays." Agent May replied, dismissively.

"I never told you about my kids." Marsha paused in a swallow of yogurt, raising her eyebrows at Melinda.

"SHIELD." May stated, simply, pointing at herself.

Marsha just continued to stare.

"Well, you're wearing a ring, which indicates that you are married, you only wear washable cotton-blend clothing and practical shoes, you wear no dangling jewelry, you are not a smoker, you are between the ages of twenty-seven and thirty-five, and you have a picture of two children in your wallet who share genetic markers that indicate that they are siblings." Agent May said, by way of explanation.

"You looked me up?" Marsha said, putting down an ace.

"Yep." May rolled her eyes. "But also my extensive training in reading body language and observant nature."

"Sure." The doctor nodded obligingly, giving May a silly smile.

"What are you planning for the holidays?" Melinda asked her.

"My husband is out of town," Marsha admitted. "As I'm sure you know, he works with the UN. He's in Islamabad, consulting on some big medical emergency. It's classified, so even I don't know what's going on."

"Too bad for the kids." Melinda said. "I'm sure they'll still love their Christmas presents."

"Oh, we're Jewish." Marsha said, placing another card down as their stalled card game resumed. "We're going to spend Hanukkah with my parents in Michigan."

"That's nice." Melinda said, not sure what to say. She wasn't one for religion. She didn't believe in a higher power, or capital-G God. She knew aliens existed, but thought that resurrection was a bit far-fetched. She doubted that if it was possible, she wouldn't know about it. If it was possible, SHIELD would know about it.

A few weeks later, Melinda watched the snow come down outside her window, looking out at the city, lit up with christmas lights and the holiday spirit in every bulb. A flurry of snow buffeted off of her window, just as a noisy knock perforated the silence of Melinda's apartment. May frowned. She wasn't expecting anyone.

May stood on the tiptoes of her swollen feet and looked out of the peephole in her door. Through the small circle, she saw two figures, heavily bundled up and covered in snow. One was small and the other, adult sized, but short. The larger figure reached into a pocket and held a piece of plastic up to the peephole, a driver's license. May rolled her eyes and swung the door open.

"You're getting more and more paranoid." Marsha told her, entering May's apartment dragging a small child behind her by one hand. Almost immediately, she unzipped her coat and removed it, and May saw why she had looked so bulky before. It wasn't entirely the warm coat, beneath it, Marsha had a baby strapped over her chest in a front-facing baby carrier.

"Please, come in." May said, her voice free of inflection but with more than a little sarcasm. She hung up Marsha's wet coat and took the coat the small child had abandoned on the floor. The little girl had frizzy blonde hair like her mother's, and she sat on the floor, determinedly removing her tiny boots. She looked up at May with giant green eyes, and gave her a huge smile.

"Hi!" The little girl said, jumping up and nearly tackling May. May, one of the best field agents in the business, was taken down by a four year old.

"Careful, Shay!" Marsha charged, placing one hand on the sleeping baby's head while attempting to reign in her daughter. "Sorry," She apologized. "Eric swears she'll be a linebacker someday." She pulled her daughter off of the somewhat horrified May, who stood and stared at the little family awkwardly.

There was an awkward silence that only the two adults participated in, with little Shay running into every room in the apartment and the baby snoring.

"Every outgoing flight was canceled, so I thought I'd bring the kids over, so you wouldn't be alone on the holidays." Marsha explained, shifting on her feet, rocking to soothe the baby.

"I don't mind being alone." May said, glancing around the mostly darkened apartment.

"I mind." Marsha replied, bluntly. "I brought cookies." She sat on the couch, and May sat beside her. Soon enough, they got to talking, and Shay calmed down enough to come over and have a cookie.

The didn't talk the whole time, and they laughed a bit, and played a few hands of cards. They had a merry time together, alone. May had a nice time, surrounded by something she didn't want for herself, but she knew made others happy, enjoying the company of the one person she trusted with her secret.


	5. Chapter 4

"Melinda, stay calm." Marsha said, rolling her eyes. "We're going to be here for hours, and you've only had _two _contractions."

"I'm calm." May said, breathlessly. "I'm fine."

"You have a vice-grip on the remote." Marsha pointed out.

The two women were sitting in Melinda's living room, on the couch, watching _Jeopardy! _Melinda, nine months pregnant and enormous, just beginning labor. Marsha was well-dressed and made-up, with a Coke in her hand, lounging on the couch and looking extremely out of place.

She had been on her way to a party with her husband when May had called to inform her that her water had broken and she'd felt her first contraction.

"You really could have waited to call me." Marsha told her frankly, as she stepped into the small apartment and leaned against the wall to remove her heels. She was wearing a pomegranate-colored dress, and had her frizzy blonde hair braided elegantly. "If you've only had one contraction, we could be here for up to thirty hours."

"Sorry, I've never had a baby before." Melinda raised her eyebrows at her doctor. "You're cranky." She shifted uncomfortably on the couch, anxiously anticipating her next contraction.

"Really?" Marsha snapped, irritably. She took a sip from her soda and muttered, "What I wouldn't give for a stiff drink." She sounded incredibly pissed off.

"You can go grab something, there's a liquor store two blocks away." May told her. Her voice had gone stiff and cold, turning away from Marsha.

"I can't!" Marsha exclaimed, angrily through gritted teeth.

May glared at her. "Why the hell not? I'd give just about anything for you to be less of a bitch right now. Besides, it's not like you're-"

"No, I'm not pregnant!" Marsha snapped back at her, her face red and her eyes angry. "But I am delivering a baby in a few hours, and on very little sleep, as I do have two small children of my own." She turned away from Melinda, her shoulders shaking.

There was an extended pause as May went through another painful contraction. Marsha gave her a few sips of water and rubbed her back.

"I'm sorry," Melinda said, gripping Marsha's hand with all of the strength in her, shaking in pain.

"It's fine," Marsha said, soothingly. "I shouldn't bait you, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it distracts me from the pain." May replied, relaxing her tense muscles.

May gave birth with minimal pain killers and little delay six hours later, at two in the morning. A healthy baby girl came screaming into the world, bringing much relief to an exhausted Marsha and a drained May. Marsha swaddled May's newborn in a sterile blanket and allowed her to get some rest before making her nurse the baby.

"I know you want to give her up." Marsha said, looking May in the eye, while the former looked anywhere but at her child. "Is there any chance that you have reconsidered your decision?" She asked, trying to keep expression from her voice.

May shook her head, her chin resting on her collar bone. "No." She cleared her throat. "What do we do going forward?"

"Well, I'll take her to the hospital and get her processed." Marsha said, pausing again. "You don't want to name her, do you?" She asked, gently.

"No." Melinda said, still looking straight at her. "When can you take her?"

"In an hour or two, she shouldn't travel quite yet." The doctor said, gently caressing the child.

Melinda looked away from the doctor, not wanted to see the baby. She was still in pain from labor, and her emotions were making her cry and laugh and want to scream. She went to bed, not wanting to be awake anymore, letting the world exist without her for a while.

She woke up late into the day, past noon, alone in the apartment. She found a note from Marsha on the fridge, and yanked the paper towards her. She read it aloud to herself. "Dear Melinda, you did it. Your reward is in the fridge. Take two and call me in the morning. Yours, Marsha." May opened the fridge and found a bottle of scotch waiting for her with a plastic cup resting on top. She sighed, and took it in one hand, knowing that she wouldn't sleep before the bottle was empty. It didn't feel like a reward, it felt like a consolation, like an ending. It felt suspiciously like a goodbye.


	6. Chapter 5

Melinda started to put real effort into her recovery two days after she gave birth. That day was also the last she saw Marsha Alcott.

At ten that morning, she heard a knock on her door. She put down her cereal and got up, pulling her shirt down over her stomach, lean but lumpier than she was used to. She thought she was ready to have her body back, but now that she wasn't sharing it, she felt alone. But she had always felt alone, she had been in a constant state of loneliness since her own birth. She checked the peephole, sighed, and answered the door.

"Hi," She said awkwardly, pushing a wisp of hair out of her face. In her head, her voice sounded awkward, but the word came out hard on her ears.

"May I come in?" Marsha asked pleasantly, smiling at her. She wearing a light coat, march in Washington DC was humid but rainy. Her hair was frizzy, and her smile was bright. She was carrying two grocery bags, and sounded out of breath. "I brought brunch."

May stood aside and let her enter the apartment. She gave Marsha a tired smile and sat down on the couch heavily, feeling every ounce of her extra twenty pounds.

"It's lovely outside, a little rainy, but nice." Marsha said, pulling back the curtains and placing her groceries on the kitchen counter. She began to unload, chattering happily to May all the while. Melinda just sat on the couch, immobile and silent.

"-and then Shay just said 'funny joke!' in her tiny little voice!" Marsha said, shaking her head and laughing. "Fricking precious, that kid."

Melinda looked up at Marsha, and they made eye contact. At once, she lost all of her bouncy energy. It was like all of the joy that had entered the room with her had been sucked out of the room like carbon dioxide absorbed by a tree.

"Are you okay?" Marsha asked, her voice cracking.

"Why-" May paused, not sure of her words. "-why don't you drink.?"

Marsha looked confused, concerned. She put down her strawberries and slowly pulled out a chair, taking a seat.

"I'm . . . an alcoholic." She said, slowly. "I haven't had a drink in six years, three months, and twenty-four days."

May nodded, she felt so heavy. She felt like there were lead weights on her chest, pushing her ribs in and puncturing her lungs.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her breath shallow.

"I-"

"We're not friends!" May said, her breath coming to her now. "You don't get to come over to my apartment like you're my friend from work, and bring brunch, and talk about your kids." Her voice started out angry but calmed. "Get out."

Marsha looked shocked for a second, but then shook her head. "This isn't you, May. This is just your hormones talking, you're not angry at me-"

"I'm." May said, forcefully. "Not angry. I need you to leave. You are my doctor, and I am fine." She told Marsha slowly, getting up. "I need you to leave."

After Marsha finally left that day, promising to return, May started to return to her normal routine, pre pregnancy. When off duty, she would begin her day at seven, stretch, do strength training, then eat, run six miles, do paperwork, eat a heavy lunch, take a power nap, answer correspondence, then yoga. Finally, she ate a light dinner, took a brisk shower, and went to bed no later than eleven o'clock. She could do without sleep, but it made her less sharp, less effective at her job.

May knew that she couldn't just return to her strenuous routine after months of relative inactivity, so she began by stretching, forcing her body to comply with her will. She removed the clothes she had worn for months as her body changed, she didn't need them any more. That part of her life was over. She put all of her loose, soft clothing into a box, and put it at the back of an unused closet. She put on shoes for the first time in weeks.

That first day, she stayed inside, stretching, doing yoga and testing herself. She ordered a lean dinner, full of protein, and finished the last of the scotch Marsha had left her. She put the bottle in the back of the closet. Then she took a shower and went to bed.

Melinda used the rest of her remaining vacation time to get back into the shape she had been accustomed to- hard, strong, and unyielding. She ran every day, did hundreds of push ups and ate the healthiest meals of her life. Despite this, some things were different now. She had never had a huge affinity for alcohol before, but now she drank. Not to excess, but enough to keep her fond memories closer. Some changes her body had experienced seemed permanent, no matter how much better she looked, how much stronger she felt. Her breasts remained pronounced, she had new scars to add to her battle scars. It was lucky no one was brave enough to ask her about them, she never prepared a lie.

Within four weeks she was back to her peak condition, back to the way things had been before, almost. She started answering emails again, and taking phone calls. By the time her vacation was over, she was ready to return to work, and did so. If anyone noticed a change in her, they attributed it to her own usual brand of strangeness. No one felt that they knew her well enough to judge.


	7. Chapter 6

_Twenty years later _

May had been working behind a desk for longer than anyone could have believed. After Bahrain, she got worse. More anti-social, if possible. She still retained every excellence in her field, she did everything that was required of her, but she had cold, dead eyes. Fury called her into his office, they talked for exactly one hour, then she left with a desk job. No one but the two of them ever knew what had been said in that meeting.

When Fury asked her to take care of Coulson, Melinda couldn't say no. Fury knew it, she knew it. The meeting was a formality. She owed Fury, she owed Coulson, and it was tax season. It was time to pay.

Months passed as May flew the Bus and slowly got used to the team she had picked. Skye was an unexpected addition to the team, but May quickly checked her out. Something about her had seemed familiar, but looking at the girl's medical records solved the mystery. Her blood type, her birthday. May did more yoga after that, trying to focus her energy inward. She tried to put her biological daughter in a box in her mind, and Skye separately in the real world. That became more difficult when Coulson spoke to her one day concerning the girl who was both.

"May," Coulson said, raising his brows. "Would you join me for a second?"

"What is it, Phil?" Agent May pursed her lips and accepted the scotch offered to her.

"It's about Skye, and her past." Coulson said, taking a seat behind his desk.

"I've been looking into it, as you asked." May said, crossing her legs and taking a sip of the amber liquid.

"Thank you, May." Coulson said, leaning forward. "I really appreciate it. Skye needs closure, she's been searching for her parents her whole life."

"I'm happy to help." May replied, her voice even.

"Thank you, Melinda." Coulson said, leaning back in his chair and sipping his own drink.

That was the last conversation that they would have about it until The Incident.

"Skye and May are nothing alike." Fitz complained.

Coulson chuckled, before coughing to cover it up. There was an argument in session, as was almost always the case on the Bus. May had twisted her ankle on a previous scouting mission, and was unable to do her part in an upcoming mission. So, the team was scrambling to change the plan or find a work-around for the original.

"I think it'll be fine." May said. She knew it was harder to take her seriously when her foot was propped above her head on ice, so she was keeping her remarks briefer than usual.

"Skye doesn't speak Mandarin, or know how to deploy a parachute." Grant interjected.

"May can feed her lines through coms and you can give her a quick lesson." Coulson compromised.

"That's not ideal, but the plan doesn't work without a decoy." Simmons sighed, putting her head on the table. "Why can't anything ever go as planned?" She complained, her voice muffled.

Of course, it didn't go well. Because nothing ever goes well.

Twenty minutes into the mission, Skye got made and stabbed, which, as Simmons would later point out, was actually a record. Grant got her out, and they got out of dodge as quickly as they could.

"She needs blood, May." Coulson said, coming up behind her. Melinda was staring at Skye through the crystal clear glass. The girl, nearly twenty years old, looked like a child in the large hospital bed. She was attached to half a dozen machines, not even breathing on her own. Her eyes were shut, her hair pulled to one side, so as not to interfere with all of the tubes and whirring machinery keeping Skye alive. A young nurse attended to the machines around her.

"How long have you known?" Melinda asked, not turning away.

"Since Skye asked me about it, I've done a little digging." Coulson said, walking closer with his arms crossed in front of him. "I remembered you asked me about a doctor a few decades ago, and then proceeded to talk eight year's worth of paid vacation leave, which amounted to nearly nine months-"

"So SHIELD has known all this time?" May said, raising her eyebrows and turning to face him.

"A week before you did. You're very good, May." Coulson smiled. "But SHIELD has an entire department devoted to watching agents while they're off the clock. The only reason they never brought it up-"

"They didn't want to scare me off." Melinda said, lowering her eyelids. "They knew I wanted to keep my pregnancy under wraps, so they let me. Goddamn Stoners." She backed away from the glass and sat on one of the sterile metal benches along the wall.

"I'm so, so sorry, Melinda." Phil sat beside her. "If I'd known, I would never have brought her on board."

"Yes, you would." May smiled bitterly. "You would have been even more inclined to bring her on. Give her that family the rest of us never had." She swiped at a tear that had escaped her eye solo. "It's fine, Phil." She shrugged.

"One of us would have needed blood eventually, job like this." Coulson smiled at her, and took her hand. They sat in silence, watching Skye sleep. She looked nothing like the baby May had given up. In that instant, May knew that she had made the right decision. She would not have changed it if she could have. She could not have lived that life, been a single mother with a baby. She was capable of killing a man with her hands tied behind her back, but she could not have raised Skye. Just thinking of a defiant child like that in her care almost made her smile. Sighing, she rose from her seat, and she went to Skye's bedside.

"She needs blood." The nurse, a freckled blonde, told Melinda, offering her Skye's chart. "With her injuries, I'm reluctant to give her a transfusion that her body could reject. Agent May, I've been informed that you have access to one of Skye's blood-relatives?" The shorter girl blinked up at her, her eyes green and innocent.

"That is correct. What's your name?" Melinda asked the girl, sensing a familiarity in her appearance.

"Sasha," The girl responded. She was young, she couldn't be older than twenty-five. "Sasha Alcott."

"Shay." Melinda realized. "You followed in the family business."

The girl smiled. "My brother is the youngest cardiothoracic surgeon on record."

"How is Marsha?" Melinda asked, fondly.

Sasha cast her eyes down. "She died three years ago. Wounded in action, in Iraq. She was serving a special ops base there."

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Melinda replied, shocked. "I- I didn't hear anything about it."

"You didn't stay in touch." Sasha's voice was light, free of judgement, but stinging. "You should sit down, I'll be right back."

A moment later, Sasha returned with a needle and empty blood-bag. For ten minutes, May sat there as her blood was sucked from her veins, filling two bags. She flexed her arm as instructed by Sasha, the blood flowing neatly from her arm.

"What do you want me to tell her?" Coulson asked, facing May as she stretched her sore arm.

"I'll figure something out." May said. Sasha hurriedly put one of the blood-bags in a nearby mini-fridge, and hooked the other up to an IV already in place in Skye's arm. May looked away. Brave as she was, she had no love for needles. The last twenty minutes had been relative torture. She would rather have taken on five armed turkish hitmen with only a copy of _The New York Time_s any day. After checking all of Skye's vitals, Sasha gave May a paper cup of orange juice and a graham cracker.

"You should go eat something more substantial." Sasha told her, glancing back at Skye. "I'll have someone find you when she wakes up."

May nodded, devoured the cracker in two bites, and swallowed the juice in one gulp.


End file.
